


A monster inside of my skin

by Multifandom_damnation



Category: The Order (TV 2019)
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Animal Transformation, Best Friends, Gen, Heart-to-Heart, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Post-Season/Series 02, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Team, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Team as Family, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:49:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27134126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multifandom_damnation/pseuds/Multifandom_damnation
Summary: Silverback runs through the woods one chilly morning, and Jack finally feels free, despite how much everything has changed
Relationships: Hamish Duke & Jack Morton
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	A monster inside of my skin

**Author's Note:**

> This fic kind of got away from me a little bit. Like, I knew I wanted the beginning, and I wanted it to be between Jack and Hamish, but the actual conversation didn't actually have any context, but I'm actually very please with how it turned out! I accidentally changed my style with this one, and I'm very happy with the way it flows. Like, I'm REALLY happy with this one, which is rare these days. I'm loving the little details I included and the conversation flow. I've been watching a lot of The Order fanvids on Youtube and that just really inspired me to write this because I love our Knights so much! I just really needed an excuse to write the Order, because I love these fools like no tomorrow, and I'm pleased that I found the perfect excuse!! I hope you guys enjoy this one as much as I do haha.

As a wolf, Jack ran through the woods, eyes closed as Silverback guided him around the trees and over fallen logs, relishing in the feeling of the wind against his face and the rustling of his fur and the pounding of his heart in his chest. His mouth still tasted like blood, but he had gotten used to that long ago, though he didn’t particularly enjoy it. His ears pricked at every sound, every snapping twig and rustling tree and squawking critter.

He wasn’t quite sure what had pushed him out of the Den during the early hours of the morning. Maybe it had been their shared hunger, Jack’s desire for a midnight snack and Silverback’s need for a hunt, or Silverback’s urge to run through the woods, or Jack’s hankering for space from the constant commotion of the other residents of the Knights Den and a breath of fresh air.

Regardless, they had been sprinting through the chilly winter morning since before the sun had risen, hunting the critters and beasts that lived in the area, and bathing in the icy lake when Silverback’s pelt had grown sticky with dried blood and clad with mud. There was sinew and flesh still stuck between their fangs, and while Silverback took little notice of it, Jack tried not to think about it, and distance himself from the feeling and the knowledge. The taste of blood was bad enough.

The feeling of freedom was exhilarating, like the coolness of frost on his tongue, and for a few moments, he couldn’t entirely remember why he didn’t do this more often, and why he stayed cooped up in the Den, hunched over textbooks and worrying about pointless things. Running through the woods, free like this, was so much better than anything a textbook could possibly teach him.

For a while, Jack had been content to let Silverback take the reins, to lead them through the woods on a long winter stroll, but now he was tired, and the chill of the winter wind had begun to permeate through Silverback’s thick hide, dew clinging to his fur, so sharply that even Jack could feel it.

He urged Silverback through the woods and back towards the direction of the Den, and though a little reluctantly, Silverback obeyed, and his soft paws made no sound on the dense underbrush as he padded back the direction they had come.

They could smell it before they saw it. Someone was waiting for him on the deck of the home, and he could smell the familiar scent of a freshly made cup of coffee. Ordinarily, he would have thought that Randall would be the one to get up early and stand outside in the cold to wait for him to return, but he could hear Randall somewhere else, far away, sounding overly-cheerful with a hint of desperation, and Jack assumed that he was probably trying to get a laugh out of Lilith, which had gotten harder and harder to do these days, though that never stopped Randall from trying.

Silverback let out a rumbling purr that resonated in his chest as they got closer and the scent became more distinct. Dull peppermint and rum, expensive body wash, but the underlying twinge of wet-dog and stale blood. A familiar scent, a comforting one, and one Jack knew even without Silverback’s enhanced senses, and it warmed him to his very core.

When they emerged from the clearing, they weren’t surprised to see Hamish leaning against the railing with his back to them, sipping at a strongly smelling cup of coffee, wearing loose-fitting but no less formal seeming pyjamas, feet bare, hair askew. He glanced over his shoulder as Jack changed back from wolf to man, and absently tossed a bundle of fabric over his shoulder before glancing back towards the house, looking at the window to watch Jack’s blurry reflection. “I wasn’t sure how much clothes you would want,” he said idly as he sipped at his coffee.

Kneeling on the dewy grass, Jack shifted through the clothes to find that Hamish had raided his drawers some time while he was out, and while he longed to put on the warm clothes, he was still dirty and stunk of wet dog and sweat, and he thought it was best to have a wash with actual soap before he put on clothes he suspected had just been pulled from the laundry. He gladly took the underwear from the pile, and a robe he hadn’t seen before but he assumed must have been his.

“I finally get a robe,” he joked as he joined Hamish on the deck, depositing the spare clothes on one of the empty chairs. “What are you doing out here so early?”

“Waiting for you,” Hamish said as he reached for the second cup of coffee, steaming in the chilly air. He handed it to Jack. “Here.”

It stung Jack’s hands when he touched it, in that way your cold body burns when being hit by hot water. He maneuvered it around until he could hold the handle and sniffed at it, looking up through his eyelashes at Hamish. “Is there brandy in this one too?”

Hamish raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you _want_ brandy in it?”

“No, this is fine. Thanks,” Jack smiled as he sipped at the coffee, shutting his eyes at the way the heat poured through his system and warmed his whole body from his fingers to his toes to the hair on his head. He nodded his chin at Hamish. “You don’t have a class today?’

“Not today. Besides, I couldn’t if I wanted to,” Hamish said. “Gabrielle has been in the shower all morning.”

Jack snorted. He wasn’t really surprised. “It’s weird having another girl in the place. They take so _long_ to wash their hair. Even Lilith these days.”

Smiling over the lip of his coffee cup, Hamish sniggered. “It might take a little while to get used to it, that’s true,” he said. “Don’t even get me started about Randall and the kitchen. It’s like that guy never stops eating. When Gabrielle gets out, you should have a shower. You’re a mess, and I don’t want you trekking mud through my place.”

“It’s _our_ place, and we’re _wolves_ , it’s what we _do_ ,” Jack snorted. “And I’m not _that_ dirty, I had a bath while I was out.”

“Silverback jumping into a frozen pond after a hunt doesn’t count as a bath, Jack,” Hamish interrupted, but not unkindly. There was a small smile on the edges of his lips. “What did you catch?”

“Oh, you know. A bit of this, a bit of that. A deer, a rabbit, a squirrel,” Jack said, almost as easily as if they were discussing the weather. How strange his life had become. “If you don’t have a class, what are you up so early for, anyway?”

“Not sure, really,” Hamish said. “Tundra woke me, and then wouldn’t let me go back to sleep. I don’t know why. I’m thinking it might have had something to do with you- or Silverback at least- which is why I’m out here so early, freezing my balls off.”

“Me?” Jack frowned. “Why would your wolf be worried about me? I’m fine. Out of everyone, I think I’m the one you have to worry about the least.”

Hamish shrugged. “As I said, I’m not sure. What are you doing up? I think I heard you leaving. Sounded urgent.”

“Nah, I think Silverback just wanted to go for a run. It’s been a while since we’ve just taken the time to enjoy a good hunt like that, without worrying about people dying and the end of the world and all,” Jack leant against the railing, facing the inside of the Den and holding his cup off coffee in one hand. It was still warm, even outside in the cold. “And I guess it was a good excuse to clear my head.”

Inside, Randall was throwing quips over his shoulder at a bored Lilith as he spiralled up the wall, climbing across it in that confident way he did, while Lilith watched, uninterested and unimpressed, from the back wall. She was impressed by very little these days, and while Randall used to be the one who could make her break character and burst out laughing with some witty joke of his, now he barely managed a raised eyebrow out of her. Things had changed so much, it was almost to the point where Jack could hardly recognise them.

Sighing, Hamish followed his gaze and took a pensive sip of his coffee. Jack could smell it from here, even without Silverback’s aid, and was dreadfully sure that it was more brandy than coffee. “I can understand that,” Hamish said eventually. “Anything in particular that you want to get off your chest?”

Shrugging, Jack stared down into his coffee, pursing his lips at the foamy surface, bits of watery brown peeking at him from between the gaps. “Not really. I mean, there’s the obvious things, like Vera losing her magic and Lilith coming back from hell a semi-demon or whatever and Alyssa dying and everything, but that just seems to be a regular day for us now.”

From his left, Hamish let out a wry chuckle. “I guess you could say that, yes.”

“I guess there’s just so much going on, so much changing,” Jack said. “It’s all changing, and I can’t tell if it’s for the better or for the worse. It doesn’t feel great.”

“Change is inevitable,” Hamish said, ever the wise martyr. “So is death. The hides are adaptable, so their Knights need to be as well. It’s only natural-”

“I know and I get it,” Jack interrupted. “But I don’t even know who we are anymore, sometimes. I can’t even recognise us. I’m worried that soon we’re going to change so much that we’re not going to remember who we are by the end of it all.”

Sighing sadly, Hamish leaned heavily against the banister, and Jack turned to look at him to see Hamish already watching him. “Change is inevitable,” he repeated. “But that doesn’t mean it’s easy.”

There was a commotion inside. Randall had dropped from the climbing wall and was now following Lilith as she left the room, pleading with words unreadable through the glass. Her reply was angry, and Randall recoiled at her unexpected outburst, and she stormed off, leaving him standing alone at the entry, looking confused and sad like a lost puppy.

“Not just Lilith, though that’s still a huge thing,” Jack replied, watching Randall as he looked around helplessly, trying to figure out what to do next. “Randall had already changed after the Order’s scientists took him, but now with this thing he’s got going with Gabrielle, he’s not the same guy he used to be. We’re the Knights of the Blue Rose or whatever. Our hides are restless, and Midnight possesses Gabrielle every now and then to try and kill me. This place has become a home to me, but it doesn’t really feel like it at times. Alyssa’s dead. My grandpa Pete is dead. The thing I’ve been striving for my entire life has ended and I don’t know what I’m doing with my life anymore. There’s this _thing_ you’ve got going on with Vera-”

“Alright,” Hamish interrupted, making a strangled noise at the back of his throat as he choked on his spit. “There’s no need to get into my love life.”

“So it’s love, is it?” Jack teased and enjoyed the flustered noises Hamish made and the flush to his cheeks that wasn’t entirely due to the cold. “I’m glad that you’re finally admitting it. I’m not sure you’ve ever said that out loud before.”

“You’re such a pain,” Hamish rolled his eyes. “Anyhow, I don’t need your approval. You certainly didn’t need our approval when you started dating Alyssa.”

“Yeah, but Alyssa was never actually my _boss_ ,” Jack continued, earning a swipe from Hamish, which he easily avoided.

“But she was your teacher for a time, and that’s just as bad,” he laughed, and Jack thought that it was nice to see Hamish laugh. The way he threw his head back slightly and his eyes got all squinty and his teeth seemed whiter against his stretched lips. He was used to seeing Hamish smiling, but never really laughing. That was a rarity he shared for Randall and Lilith, but it was nice to know that Jack was slowly being brought into the fold.

They settled back against the railing, laughter leaving them like the frost in the air, slowly and easily, but leaving them with the residue of a smile on their lips. Hamish took another sip of his coffee, hissing at the heat on his cold teeth before he reached over and poured another dash of brandy into it from the open bottle from his side. That must have been where the strong smell was coming from, but the coffee was slowly starting to reach that level, and Jack suspected that it would soon be more brandy than coffee. Silverback settled down against his ribcage, content and exhausted after the early morning run, and he could sense somehow that Tundra was doing the same thing within Hamish, just happy letting the two of them take control and just exist for the time being. Who knew how long that would last for, but for now, it was nice.

He knew that Hamish was getting ready to say something deep and meaningful by the way he shifted and twisted to look at Jack, the way he took a breath so deep that his chest swelled and the way he let it out through his nose. Jack could almost imagine smoke coming out, like a waking dragon twitching in its pile of gold, and he sipped at his coffee as he waited for Hamish to get it out. “You know,” he said softly, almost like the words were a struggle to say. “Change may be inevitable, and hard, but I think that sometimes it’s also… good. Good for us, good for the team, good for the hides.”

Jack couldn’t help the pessimistic scoff that escaped his lips. “Good for nothing,” he swallowed back the bitter retort when he saw Hamish gear up for another comment, and interrupted before the train of thought could even begin. “How has change been good for us, Hamish? I mean, I get what you’re trying to say, but since when has anything that happened to us recently been good? The Order took our memories. Lilith was trapped in the demon realm and was changed into… something. Vera doesn’t even have her magic. Change has done nothing for us. We all would have been better off if things had just stayed the same.”

Humming, Hamish leant his elbow against the wooden railing and ran his finger over the rim of his coffee cup. A low fog hung over the grounds, making them seem like two wanderers taking refuge at a haunted, decrepit house in a horror movie. “Would we?” he didn’t sound annoyed, which Jack was pleasantly surprised with. “Change brought me Vera. Change brought you Alyssa. Change brought Lilith a woman she could love. Change gave Randall a new best friend and responsibility. Change gave us _you_ ,” 

There were a million things that Jack wanted to say to that, but somehow, the words were stuck in his throat, and all the breath was trapped in his lungs, locked away in a box that Hamish’s kind words had sealed. His rebuttal died like flames on his tongue, and he found that anything he could have said to him would have been a lie.

Knowingly, Hamish looked away from Jack and focused on plucking peeling paint off of the wooden railing with his fingertips. “I’m of the opinion that, though change may be painful at the time, it usually leads to good things. Not always, but often. And I have to say, that more things have changed with the Knights than I ever thought possible, all when a naked Jack Morton arrived at our door.”

He was smiling, and Jack felt like he had permission to smile too, and soon a laugh was bubbling up in his throat and left his lips like light carbonation before he could stop it. Hamish glanced up at him with a cheeky grin before ducking back down to scratch at the flecked paint. “Yeah? Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m glad that you decided to _change_ slamming me into walls and man-handling me around like a kids doll just because you didn’t have the patience for me.”

Something unidentifiable shot across Hamish’s face then, but it was gone before Jack could decipher it, and that goofy smile of his returned. “Yeah, well, that was a long time ago, and you were a brat.”

“A _brat_ ?” Jack repeated, cupping a hand behind his ear and leaning closer to Hamish. “I’m sorry, did you just call me a _brat_?”

“Now that you mention it, I believe I did, yes,” Hamish teased as he stood up straighter, straightening out his too-old looking pyjamas. “A rascal. A punk, if you will."

“Excuse me, but I was a freshman who joined a secret cult and then also turned into a vicious beast and _killed_ my _ethics professor_ , and _then_ had to bury him in the woods, steal his clothes, and _then_ be told by a bunch of strangers and my RA that I was also now a werewolf,” Jack said, and it sounded stranger and stranger the more he recited. Hamish looked like he was trying not to laugh and narrowly succeeding. “You know, I’ve never actually said any of that out loud before. I sound like a crazy person.”

“I guess that’s true. You can be forgiven,” Hamish said. He was smiling, and Jack’s shoulders relaxed, though he wasn’t sure why they were tense in the first place. Hamish looked him up and down, eyes searching for something Jack couldn’t place, and he felt himself shifting and stiffening up at his scrutiny. “You’ve changed too, you know. A lot. And I like to say that it’s for the better, but it’s really only for you to decide.”

Jack kicked at the deck, sending faint specks of mud up into the air. “Well, I don’t know if that’s true, but thanks for the compliment, I guess.”

The look on Hamish’s face would have been comical if Jack could understand what it meant. “You absolutely _have_ changed,” he said sternly. If it were anyone else, Jack would have thought that the tone of voice meant he was getting in trouble. “You’re not at all the same person we met so long ago. Besides the fucked up shit Gabrielle did to you- which was _totally_ fucked up by the way- you’ve changed all on your own. Even though your grandfather died, you were able to escape his toxic behaviour and be your own person.”

Everything within Jack wanted him to protest and defend his grandfather's worth, but there was something about the way Hamish was looking at him that said that was exactly what Hamish wanted. “Tell me what you really feel,” he said instead, and Hamish looked surprised.

“I think you’re more likely to ask for help and give help in return,” Hamish continued without missing a beat. “I think you’re less prone to acting and more prone to thinking. I think that you never want people to feel the way you did. I think that you’ve changed more than you know.”

If Jack thought about it, really thought about it, he knew that Hamish would be right. That he was almost unrecognisable from the man who had stumbled onto Belgrave and fallen face-first into magic and werewolves. But he didn’t really want to think about it. It hurt too much, to consider how much he had changed, how different he was when that had never been his intention. So, instead of thinking about it, he silently willed Hamish to change the conversation. Silverback purred in sympathy from within his chest. “Thanks, Hamish. I’m flattered.”

“You should be. It’s a compliment,” Hamish said. “As I said, you’re not the same guy who walked through our front door. You have friends, now. You have all of us, and I don’t even have to ask to know that we all have you as well. But, for what it’s worth, I like this Jack better. So you have changed, even if you don’t want to think so.”

For the life of him, Jack couldn't think of a retort. "Oh," he said weakly. "Thanks."

Despite Jack's worry, Hamish merely shrugged. "It’s not a worry. I like this version of you, this… kind, sensible, caring young man. That old Jack was a bit of a self-centred prick. You’re still easily angered and sensitive, but I’ll take what I can get. I thought I might as well tell you so you continue to be this way, instead of reverting back to the way you were before you had a family and a purpose. Positive reinforcement and all that jazz, as Randall would say."

Their pensive conversation was once again interrupted by a hysterical commotion from inside, high pitched voices meeting low angry growls, and that must have meant that Gabrielle had finally come out of the shower and downstairs for breakfast and that she and Lilith were at each other's throats again for something or other. Though, to be fair, Timber and Midnight fought almost as much as Lilith and Gabrielle did, so it was just part of their nature now. They could hear Randall’s desperate pleading as he tried to break them up, and knew without seeing it that he wouldn’t manage it. He never had before, and that wasn’t going to change now.

“We’ve got to fix this,” Jack said as he watched through the window as Lilith stormed up the stairs and out of sight. Randall followed her, but paused at the base of the stairs, holding the banister and looking up at where she disappeared. “All the fighting, the tension, the messed up stuff going on… we’ve got to fix it, Hamish.”

“I know. We need to fix whatever the demon realm did to Lilith,” Hamish agreed gently. “But I don’t want to push too hard or… step on any toes. Gabrielle is still trying to understand what it means to be a Knight and is still struggling to accept her first kill. And Lilith… well. I’m afraid that pushing her might just be the thing that sets us up for failure and pushes her over the edge of what she’s willing to tolerate. I’d rather have fighting than death. So I’m just letting it play out for now, but until we figure out what to do, I’d rather strike when we have a plan.”

Sighing, Jack finished the rest of his now cooled coffee and set the empty cup behind him on the railing. “I know. I just hate it. This is one change that I just can’t agree with.”

The kind curiosity in Hamish’s eyes when he turned to him was almost startling, and Jack knew that it meant a new topic of conversation. “How are you feeling?”

Somehow, Jack knew exactly what he meant. His tongue tingled and buzzed with the answers, ricocheting around in his head as he struggled to make sense of them these past few days. Silverback cooed inquisitively, waiting to hear the answer as well. “Restless,” he admitted. “Strained. Confused. Anxious. Uneasy. Agitated. Nervous.” Hamish raised his eyebrows, obviously not expecting such a thought out response. “There are some days where I want to tear my skin apart with my teeth, and sometimes I scratch at it until I bleed, just because I’m thinking too much. I don’t know what I’m doing here. Not here with the Knights, but just in general. I like the path we’re on, getting to hang out and be heroes and defeat evil magic and stuff, but sometimes I feel like the cost isn’t worth the reward. Sometimes, I feel like a monster, and that there’s this thing inside of me that’s making me toxic and poisonous and forcing me to do bad things and hurt innocent people, but then I end up wondering if I feel like that because of my wolf, or if that’s just who I’ve always been.”

When Jack cut off abruptly, pausing for air, Hamish blinked in surprise. “Uh,” he said eloquently. “Is there a _but_ coming around about now or are you about to start having an existential crisis?”

“ _But_ ,” Jack continued and Hamish let out a relieved breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. “I also feel… free. Sturdy. Confident. Brave. I have never felt such freedom as when I let Silverback loose and he runs us through the woods. Whenever I feel lost, I remind myself about all the good we’re doing and who I’m here with, and I realize that there’s no place I would rather be than right here with you guys.”

“Sappy, but a good answer,” Hamish teased, reaching over and wrapping an arm around Jack’s shoulder before dragging him closer for a hug. “We’re glad to have you here, Jack.”

Thankfully, Jack was spared from answering by the door opening and closing and Randall joined them out on the deck, looking downtrodden and perplexed. “Woah, why don’t I get a hug?”

Rolling his eyes, Hamish extended his other arm, and Randall darted in for a quick, half-hearted snuggle before he dashed back out breathlessly. Hamish lowered his arm and reached for the bottle of brandy instead. “How’s it going in there?” Jack asked.

“Not great dude, I’m not going to lie,” Randall shook his head. Hamish extended the bottle to him, and he took it with gratitude. “Like, nothing I do is making her any better. In fact, I think I’m making it worse. Every time I think she’s close to cracking and I think I’m getting through to her, something goes horribly wrong and we’re back to where we started. It’s exhausting. And really annoying.”

“Give her time,” Hamish tried. “And maybe a little space. We’ve been all over her since she came back. Maybe we should leave her alone for a bit.”

“Time. Space,” Randall scoffed, taking a long, deep sip from the bottle of brandy. Hamish made a face when it was handed back to him. “When did our lives become an episode of Doctor Who?”

“You know I’m right,” Hamish said idly.

“It’s like she isn’t Lilith anymore, Hamish,” Randall complained like a child. “Something changed her down there, and I just wish I knew what it was so I could fix her. No, not even fix her. She’s Lilith, she doesn’t need to be fixed, but I just want to help her through whatever she’s going through, the same way she’s always been there for us. But I can’t do that if she’s always keeping me at arm's length and storming away like a toddler during a tantrum.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Hamish warned. “She’ll bite your head off. Literally.”

Silverback glowered at Greybeard’s distress and knew that he was just as worried about his mate as Jack was about Randall. But Silverback pushed a very recent memory into his mind- the sensation of running, their paws pounding the earth, the wind against their face, the rustling of their fur, their lungs burning as they filled with chilly morning air. Once again, Jack and Silverback were on the same wavelength.

Before another argument could start, Jack interrupted. “Maybe she’s just restless?” he suggested. “Maybe you should get her out of the Den, take her for a run. Just you and her, Greybeard and Timber. I think her and Timber have been separated for so long… maybe it’ll do them both some good.”

Randall’s eyes lit up. “That’s actually a great idea. Lilith used to love hunting.”

“There’s plenty of game out there today,” Jack said. “I was out there this morning. We found some small animals, but we caught a deer, too. I think you should go. It’ll be fun.”

Frowning, Randall looked Jack up and down as if seeing him for the first time, in all his underwear and bath-robe glory. “Aren’t you cold?” he asked. Demanded, really. “It’s freezing, man. You look _wet_.”

Now that Randall mentioned it, the cold had finally caught up to him and he realized just how freezing it really was. His skin pricked, he could see his breath in the air, and his fingers and toes were numb. Subconsciously, he began to shake, and he suspected that if Silverback could laugh at him, he would be. “Ah, yeah. I just got back from a run. Silverback wanted a bath.”

“Don’t tell me you’re not taking care of yourself, Jack,” Randall placed his hands on his hips like a very disappointed mother, and Jack nearly burst out laughing. By the looks of it, Hamish wasn’t too far behind. “I’ve already got Lilith to take care of, don’t tell me that I need to put you on my list too.”

“Relax, Randall,” Hamish laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder. Randall immediately deflated. He placed a hand on Jack’s lower back and shoved him towards the door. “We were just waiting for Gabrielle to finish so he could have a shower. Thanks for the chat, Jack. I enjoyed it.”

“No worries,” he replied as he was shoved through the door. He went willingly and was immediately hit in the face by a pleasant warmth that made his toes sting. Gabrielle was on the phone to someone in the kitchen. Lilith was reading aloud to herself in her room, trying to get back into the groove of speaking at all. Jack was just finally glad to be inside again. “I’m glad that I could keep you entertained.”

“By Jack! I’ll talk to you when we get back!” Randall called as he shut the door behind Jack, turning to Hamish to plot out some plans.

As Jack trudged up the stairs, wrapped in a bathrobe that was undeniably his, Silverback rumbled happily in his chest, and Jack was once again hit with the feeling that he was home, he was loved, and that there was nowhere else he would rather be.

**Author's Note:**

> I included that line about the hair washing specifically because it takes me at last half an hour to wash mine, just because of how long and how thick it is, so I thought it was only natural to have the boys complain about something very true.


End file.
